


Howling screams

by syusuke



Series: snippets [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Winter Soldier (Comics)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Comforting Steve, Coping, Dissociation, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt Bucky, Hurt Steve, M/M, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Recovered Memories, Repressed Memories, Touch-Starved, ankering pain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-24
Updated: 2017-03-24
Packaged: 2018-10-10 02:05:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10426776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/syusuke/pseuds/syusuke
Summary: Bucky woke up screaming.





	

Bucky woke up screaming. Steve was immediately awake, scanning the room for any threats. Nothing caught his eyes. Beside him Bucky was breathing heavily. The metal hand was gripping his throat tightly. The squeezing looked painful, but Bucky didn’t stop. He was deaf to Steve’s trembling voice. No matter what Steve said. Steve anxiously watched him, knowing better than to reach out. It took 160 seconds full of worry and panic, before Bucky slowly let go. The hand fell to his lap. The unrelenting grip had left him with deep purple bruises. His breath came fast and raspy. Steve warily waited for him to say something, or move, anything really. But Bucky’s pupils were still too dilated, his focus clearly not in the room itself. It was like watching a blind man, rapid eye movements, but an unseeing gaze.

 

“No, please. I can’t.”

 

It was barely more than a hoarse whisper and Steve could only make out the words, because he was kneeling in front of his friend. Bucky’s eyes still hadn’t focused on anything in the present, his shoulders had sunken low and he let his head hang, the still too long hair covering his face like a curtain.

Steve hesitantly reached for the other man’s shoulders. All the while softly explaining that it was March 2017, in Brooklyn, and that he would keep Bucky safe, that it was over. Bucky flinched violently away from the big hands, but Steve just reached out again and simply let his hands rest there. Neither pulling, nor pushing. Just present.

 

“Please, take them away. I’ll do whatever you want.”

 

The words were still softly spoken, but this time with determination. Bucky even raised his head, to make eye contact with his presumed handler.

 

“Kill me.”

 

Steve craddled Bucky close to his chest, carefully wiping the tears away. His voice was trembling and he could barely speak, but Bucky needed him to.

 

“It’s hard. I know. I’ll help you, we’ll learn to live with it. I can’t lose you again. Never again.”

 

Telegraphing each of his movements, Steve leant in to press a chaste kiss on his friends forehead. He didn’t care that he tasted the salt of his own tears, nor did he mind the almost painfully tight grip Bucky had on his shirt. Because at some point in the last ten seconds, Bucky had grasped at the present again and stared directly at Steve. There was no room for shame between them, they had always been dangerously co-dependent. So if Bucky snuggled closer, if Steve’s careful touch turned into a death grip, both needing to feel the physical presence more intensely, neither of them mentioned it.


End file.
